


no better taste

by hydrospanners



Series: renegade [16]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Absolute Unmitigated Tenderness, F/M, First Dates, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22470262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrospanners/pseuds/hydrospanners
Summary: an ordinary moment after a very extraordinary first date; or, doc and rea experiment with tenderness. a sequel-of-sorts tosomewhere we've not been before. can stand alone.
Relationships: Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Archiban "Doc" Kimble, Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Archiban "Doc" Kimble
Series: renegade [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/987951
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	no better taste

**Author's Note:**

> By the time he slips from the blackness of Rea’s quarters, the night has turned to morning has turned to day. Shafts of light slant into the hallway from the large viewports of the cockpit, and it would be beautiful if the light wasn’t mostly neon and flashing.

Maybe it’s just the night he had, but Doc thinks it might be beautiful anyway.

He gathers his shoes and jacket into one hand, attempting to fasten the button of his pants with the other. He isn’t what you’d call modest, but he’s in a generous enough mood to tuck away anything Red or Junior would be really upset by. He’s got no idea where his underwear got off to, but he doubts he’ll ever see it again. Or his shirt. Or his socks.

It was a hell of a night.

A hell of a night that saw him waking up in _Rea’s_ bed for once.

He’d have a good time with her anywhere--they’d had a good time just about _everywhere_ last night--but stretching out in the captain’s bed is a hell of an upgrade from the complicated knots they have to tangle into below deck, down in his cramped little cot in his cramped little room. He doesn’t know why she insisted on it before, just like he doesn’t know what’s changed her mind now, but he’s got a good feeling about it. A really good feeling. A feeling so good he’s not gonna ruin it by looking at it too closely and finding something he might not be ready to see yet.

“Hey.”

Doc jumps nearly out of his skin.

Rea is leaning against the door behind him, her arms stretched overhead, crossed at the wrists and resting against the frame, looking six kinds of languid and twelve kinds of sexy. She’s wearing nothing but an oversized, threadbare tanktop--stolen from Junior if he’s any guess--that dips across the tops of her breasts and skirts along the crease of her thighs in the most tantalizing fucking way.

His mouth goes dry, and even though he knows--he absolutely, unequivocally _knows_ \--the fuel in that particular tank is all used up, there’s a part of him that wants to reach for her anyway. To slip his hands beneath the hem of that shirt and run them up her sides just as slow as he can stand, to devour, just one more time, that cut statue of a body he’s done nothing but worship all morning and all night.

His eyes rake up and down her body, up and down the lightyears of leg, of taut muscle and warm, brown skin. His eyes make her body a million promises that his hands and his mouth and his cock are all too tired and aching to make good on.

For now, anyway.

“You trying to sneak off on me?” Rea asks, and he finds her smiling one of those knowing smiles once he manages to bring his eyes up to her face again.

(Not that her face is any less tempting, with those plush, bruised lips and bright, laughing eyes; with the kind of smudged makeup and mussed hair that just screams sex.)

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Gorgeous.”

He doesn’t say how he didn’t want to wake her cause he knows she needs the rest. That kind of thing is doctor talk, and right now he’s just the man shuffling from her bed, barefoot and commando after a marathon night of mischief and sex. The kind of man who notices the exquisite sculpture of her ass, not the dark circles under her eyes.

The line between the two, he’s found, is important to Rea. It’s not a balancing act Doc is good at, not one he even likes--he’s always been more of an all in or all out type--but he’s not about to teeter over the edge now. Not after a night (and morning and afternoon) of perfect, simple pleasures.

Rea laughs, dropping her hands from the doorframe to his shoulders, her thumbs caressing the sharp edge of his clavicles. Her smile is warm and easy as ever, but there’s something about the way she’s looking at him that he can’t quite read. Something new.

She runs one hand along his shoulder, settling it in the nape of his neck, her long fingers toying with the downy hairs at his nape. It’s so gentle, so light, so different from every way she’s touched him before--a shiver runs down his spine. A sweeter kind of tingle than he’s used to, more pleasant heat than electricity.

“I had a good time last night,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Me too,” he says, a little stupidly.

It just feels so absurd, having such an ordinary exchange with a woman who couldn’t be more out of the ordinary if she tried. To be having it about a date so unusual, so delightfully and deliciously abnormal, that most people wouldn’t even recognize it for what it was.

He wants to laugh. And from the look on Rea’s face, so does she.

Instead, she leans in, eyes fluttering shut, and presses the sweetest of kisses to his lips. A kiss so soft, so brief, so chaste--the kind of kiss normal people share after a normal first date. A kiss that’s all tenderness and promise.

The surprise of it, of tasting such gentleness on _Rea’s_ lips, nearly brings him to his admittedly already-kind-of-trembling knees.

He’d be more embarrassed by it if she didn’t pull away looking just as winded as he felt. If he couldn’t see her skin puckering up in gooseflesh to match his.

The moment stretches out between them, languid and warm, and Doc just lets it. It never even occurs to him to make a joke, to say something vulgar or ostentatious that will warp things back into a more familiar shape. It just doesn’t feel like the kind of tension that needs breaking.

Rea steps back first.

Once the moment is stretched thin and the quiet starts to bear weight; once her throat starts to close around a feeling she can’t even begin to describe.

Rea steps back, and reality snaps back into place. Her smile turns coy and her eyes glitter with mischief and Doc likes that so much he can’t even be sad it cost him whatever had just been growing in the space between them.

He can’t be sad about anything right now.

Rea runs her thumb along his jaw one last time before she takes her hands off him completely. Before she steps back across the threshold of her door, before the shadows of her room flow across the dips and curves of her silhouette, seeming to swallow her up.

The last smile she gives him is pure playfulness, raising her hand to her ear in a gesture he’s seen a million times before on a million dates with a million different people. “Call me,” she mouths, just before the door swishes shut between them.

Doc spends the walk back to his bunk wondering how soon he can do just that.


End file.
